


Everything Has Changed

by DevilMadeMeDoIt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, First Kiss, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Inspired by Music, Love at First Sight, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, abuse of the word dreamy, adorable!Cas, because it's practically a fic rite of passage, bordering on crack, cause seriously...no one should be this adorable, drunk!Cas, get ready for the diabetes, sam and gabriel are sneaky sneaky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-08
Updated: 2013-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-31 22:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilMadeMeDoIt/pseuds/DevilMadeMeDoIt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love at first sight? That kind of stuff was just for the movies.</p>
<p>Until it happened to them.</p>
<p>All they know, is 18 hours ago they said hello, and everything changed.</p>
<p>(inspired by a fucking Taylor Swift song. who even am i anymore?! rated T for language)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything Has Changed

 

At 11 am on an otherwise unremarkable fall Saturday, Castiel’s life changed forever. He had been sitting at a corner table of The Heavenly Drip, the bakery slash café that was his brother’s pride and joy, staring out of the front windows with the barest hint of a dreamy smile curling his lips. Instead of the steady stream of people on the busy sidewalk, he saw bright green eyes sparkling above a sweet smattering of soft freckles, a wide dimpled smile, and a snug fitting blue jumpsuit streaked with grease and dirt, four simple letters embroidered over the heart of a charming stranger.  He’d raised the mug of the third ridiculously sugary concoction Gabriel's freakishly tall barista had shoved into his hands for him to try that morning, and was surprised to find it empty. With a sigh he had gotten up to carry the empty mug and saucer back to the counter, wondering absently if Gabriel would let him leave now. 

Gabriel had called him _far_   too early that morning. He'd woken with a groan at the blaring tones of Christina Aguillera's “Candy Man” (that was the _last_ time he'd let Gabriel anywhere near his phone), mouth dry and sour, head pounding and body aching. He had behaved like a complete lush the night before. He couldn't get the man, _Dean_ , out of his mind and had been melancholy over the fact that besides from a name and an assumed profession, he knew nothing about the man, and as they hadn't exchanged any information, it was unlikely he ever would get the chance to learn more. But Gabriel had consoled him, told him to come down to the cafe to taste test some new drinks he was thinking about putting on the menu, and in return, Gabriel would help him try to find his mystery man. Gabriel insisted that there had to be only so many mechanics who were named Dean in the city. If he got nothing else out of the day, at least he would get some free coffee, so he'd come.

It was no surprise when, with his mind so completely in the clouds and paying no attention whatsoever to the other patrons milling around the shop, he crashed into a broad, solid chest.  He yelped as he bounced off, focused on keeping the dishes in his hand. Hands wrapped around his upper arms to steady him and a husky chuckle filled his ears, sending a delicious shiver sliding down his spine. His eyes traveled slowly from the boots he was staring down at, up a tantalizing line of faded jeans, and all but devouring the sight of a black and red plaid flannel shirt unbuttoned over a tight black t-shirt, rolled back over strong forearms. He glanced up at the man's face and gasped when he found _those eyes_ looking back at him. The corners crinkled up as a smile highlighted the most perfect pair of angel-kissed dimples. The hands on his arms slid upward to cup his face, rough callouses scraped over his stubble, pulling him from his daze as he was tugged close and plush lips claimed his in the kind of kiss that only the characters of silly romantic comedies ever experienced. His eyelids fluttered closed and if his knees felt weak, well, he could care less...

><><><><  

**18 hours ago…**

Dean was finally off shift from Singer’s Auto and was headed on a direct course down the sidewalk, hustling his way through the twenty or so blocks between Bobby's shop and the Roadhouse, ready to hang out with Sammy, throw back a couple cold ones and treat himself to one of Ellen Harvelle’s famous burgers. 

Humming along to Bad Company he was able to tune out the sounds of traffic and throbbing bass pounding out of passing cars, he almost missed the frustrated, muttered curses coming from the doorway of an ancient looking apartment building. Coming up curiously, he found a lean, rumpled looking guy struggling to balance two bulging paper bags of groceries and simultaneously trying to open the front door. Dean felt himself grinning when the man dropped his keys and cursed. 

He didn’t have it in him to let the guy flounder like that when it would take nothing for him to open the door for him. He jogged up the stoop and snatched the keys off the ground. “Hey, lemme give you a hand, buddy.” He was about to slide the key into the lock when  looked up at the guy. 

Fuck he was _gorgeous_. Impossibly blue eyes peered at him beneath a fringe of sable lashes. A razor sharp jaw was stubbled dark and Dean wanted to run his fingers through all of that tousled hair, possibly while sucking one of those bitten, chapped lips into his mouth before he found out what an angel tasted like. Something was hammering in his chest, and unless he'd stumbled into a Ridley Scott movie, that something had to be his heart, and with a feeling of something close to wonder, he realized that the idea was far less disconcerting than he thought it should be. 

><><  

It took Castiel a full minute to remember how to breathe. In front of him stood the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his life, and that man was about to open the door for him. Like a fairytale prince saving the damsel in distress. Well...if damsels were actually awkward tax accountants and princes were nothing more than insanely gorgeous mechanics taking pity on hapless, bumbling... _Say something you idiot!_ His brain was shouting at him. “I…thank you.” He winced internally at the breathy way his voice came out. He cleared his throat. “Hello, yes. Thank you, I would appreciate that.” He smiled and went to hold out a hand, but remembered why he’d dropped his keys in the first place. He blushed and bit his lip. “I’d shake your hand, but…” He shrugged, and the man stole his breath again with that smile. “Don’t worry about it.” 

He stood there, just staring with the mother of all stupid grins on his face. The man stared back, eyes warm and open. Neither of them noticed or mentioned that they were still just standing there, no doors were being opened. He didn’t even know how long they’d been at it, but in the next moment his neighbor Uriel shoved between them with a disdainful grunt and unlocked the door. He turned back to look from Castiel to the man. “Problem, Castiel?” He started, another blush heating his cheeks. “No, Uriel, I was just trying to get in and I dropped my keys.” Uriel rolled his eyes. “Well, door’s open now. You coming in?” Castiel sent a sheepish smile to the man still standing on his stoop, frowning now a little. “My neighbor. I should probably get inside.” The man nodded, smiling again, and went to hand him his keys, but his arms were still clutching his shopping bags. With a huff, Uriel grabbed the keys and dragged him inside by the collar of his trench coat. “Thank you again!” He called out as he disappeared through the doorway. The man backed down the stairs slowly, almost as if he was waiting for something, a slight frown creasing his brows handsomely. As the door began to swing shut he raised his hand in a brief wave, and then he was gone. 

It wasn’t until he was in his apartment (Uriel, thankfully had opened his door and shoved his keys in his hand and then stomped off muttering under his breath about lovesick fools) and putting away his groceries before he realized that perhaps the spark of interest burning like an ember low in his belly was mutual, and the man had been waiting for Castiel to give him his information. He sighed. So much for _that_.

><><><

Sam was riding a bar stool at the Roadhouse, watching the the pub fill slowly with the beginnings of the After Work crowd and halfheartedly flirting with Jo as she tended bar with the easy grace of someone grown up behind one. He swallowed a mouthful of beer from the bottle in front of him and checked his watch, wondering when his brother would show. He knew Dean was coming straight from work at the garage, but maybe he'd gotten caught up with a project, he thought.

His attention was pulled over to the corner of the bar where Jo was laughing, full and throaty, head thrown back with her long blonde waves falling down her back. A guy with approximately zero chances was gaping, starry eyed at her as he tried to give her his business card. Sam grinned and caught her subtle eye roll when she looked his way.

It was her frowning, concerned look over his shoulder that had him confused, though. She made her way over to stand in front of him before murmuring. “Big brother at one o'clock. He looks like he either found out someone died or he got hit between the eyes with the love hammer.” Sam barked out a laugh at that. Dean? The one night stand champion? 

He turned to see for himself and his eyes found Dean walking in the general direction of the bar in a daze. When he reached it, he slumped onto the stool next to Sam and just kept staring off into nothing. Panic gripped his heart in a fist. What the hell was wrong with his brother? “Dean? Are you ok? What's going on? Is Bobby ok? Talk to me man!” Dean just kind of nodded and brought confused eyes up to his. Sam snorted. “Yeah, the thousand yard stare totally doesn't make you look at all crazy. Did...did something happen? You're starting to freak me out a little.” Dean's eyes took on that unfocused, dreamy-confused look again and his mouth opened and closed wordlessly before he found his voice. “I...met...a guy...tonight.” Sam frowned, the desire to slap his brother in the face to bring him out of whatever fugue state he'd wandered off into. “And?” The fog over Dean's eyes lifted and something that looked like a revelation crossed his features. “He's the one, Sammy.” Sam was getting just a little bit sick of the Rain Man routine. “The one what?” Dean's expression cleared, focused so suddenly that Sam nearly got whiplash. “No. Sam. I mean, like. The One.”

He really didn't think that the horrified look on his face was uncalled for. Okay. He tried desperately to school his features into something that looked casually interested. “So, who is he?” Dean gave him that confused face again. “What? Who?” He ground his teeth together. “Your dream dude. Who is he?” All of a sudden Dean paled. “Oh God, Sam! I don't know who he is! I...we didn't exchange any information!” Dean looked ready to bolt. “I have to go find him again!” Sam clapped a hand down on his brother's shoulder, keeping him on the stool. This was so bizarre it was almost comical. “Just chill, okay? Tell me what you remember.” 

><><

As annoyingly dramatic timing went, Castiel called him in the exact moment Gabriel was sitting down to unwind with a giant slice of triple chocolate cake with thick, almost pornographically good chocolate mint buttercream frosting. Hey, some people unwind at the end of the work day with a beer or a hot shower, but Gabriel was a baker by profession, and sugar was his drug of choice. 

He picked up the phone and shoved a forkfull of cake into his mouth. “W'shup Cash?” There was silence on the other end, and he swallowed his bite. “Cas? You there? Did you butt dial? Ca-aas?” And then...giggling. His little brother was...giggling. “Cas? Did you happen to take a whole bunch of drugs today?” Castiel was probably one of the least frivolous people he'd ever known, which worked out well growing up because Gabe was wild and impulsive enough for them both. Had Cas finally snapped? Gone the IRS version of postal?

A deep, blissful sounding sigh hissed through the phone's speaker. “I think I fell in love tonight, Gabriel.” Gabe was certain he was hearing things. Cas was not exactly the dating type. Not the Socializing With Actual Human Beings at all type, really. He suffered through Gabriel's repeated attempts to hook his brother up, allowed himself to be hauled out to the clubs and bars, and while Cas was stupid attractive, he had the social skills of a robot. Cas didn't flirt, didn't pick up on it when he was flirted with, so how in the hell had he managed to fall in love? Gabriel snorted and took another bite. “Have you been dating someone secretly and didn't tell me Cassie? You little slut.” And that giggle again. “Noooo, I _just_ met him. He rescued me from the Epic Battle of Door Opening.” He heard another little sigh and the sound of liquid sloshing on the other end. Cas burped, hiccuped and then fell into a fit of snorty giggles. Gabe just waited it out. Dear God, what on Earth? Cas finally seemed to get a handle on himself and he cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Gabriel. I think I might be a little drunk.” Ahh...well, that _would_ explain it. Cas usually had the alcohol tolerance of a 600 pound Irishman, but let him get his hands on a bottle of cheap red, and he was gone. “Ok princess, wanna tell me about this white knight of yours? I'll need to find out if his intentions are pure, you know.” More giggles, altogether endearing and ridiculous sounding wrapped in his brother's low register. “He's so...so _pretty_. Oh, Gabriel. He's got perfect green eyes, and soft looking lips and oh! Freckles, Gabriel! _Freckles_! And he's soooo strong looking, and I think he's a mechanic, because he was wearing this jumpsuit, and it really should be _illegal_ for a man to look that good in a jumpsuit. I wish I had a car, Gabriel. I would take my car to his shop _every day_.” Wistful sighing seemed to signal the end of the most baffling string of words ever to fall off of his brother's wine loosened tongue. “So...did you get his number, or are you two moving directly to picking out wedding dresses?” Cas harumphed on the line, the pout in his voice obvious. “No, I didn't get his number. I just stared at him like an idiot. But I do remember his name, 'cause it was on his supersexy jumpsuit.” Gabriel sighed, trying to nudge this along so he could get back to his cake and maybe a little indulgent fantasy of gargantuan baristas wearing nothing but too much hair and a dangerously tiny apron. “What is it Cas?” Cas made a small questioning sound. “The _name_ Castiel? What. Is. His. Name?” The dreamiest of all dreamy sighs came then, and the name _Dean_   was uttered like a benediction.

Suddenly...Gabriel wasn't in such a hurry to get back to his cake. He listened to Cas wax poetic about dimples, and schemed. When he finally hung up, leaving his brother to his wine and epic gay schoolgirl crush, he immediately texted Sam.

_G: Sooo, I'm pretty sure Cas is in love with your brother. :D_

_S: OMG I could have *sworn* that guy Dean was telling me about sounded familiar._

_S: and I'm pretty sure Dean is in love with *your* brother. He's all depressed right now because he didn't get and I quote “The One”'s number._

_G: Oh shit! Ok...we need a plan to get those idiots together. If only for the entertainment value._

_S: You realize, if they get married, they will owe us for the rest of their lives._

_G: Well, all I know is, if they get married, I know which bridesmaid I'm hooking up with. ;D_

_S: As if Dean would be the bride in that scenario. But...I bet I'd look smokin' in a bridesmaid's dress._

_G:....._

_G: Gotta go right now, kiddo. We'll dirty talk the details later._

><><><><

The coffee shop around them had faded, the noise of grinders and steamers and the murmur of voices died. Nothing in the world mattered but this kiss, the man leaning softly against his chest, sighing against Dean's lips like he'd be perfectly content to stay there forever. Dean wasn't about to let him go, so that worked out well.

It was when a forgotten mug and plate shattered on the tiled floor that he remembered where he was. He released the other man with a grin, stroking the pad of his thumb across a cheekbone. “Hey there, stranger.”  

When Sam had texted him that morning he'd almost ignored it. After the bar and the startling realization that Love at First Sight was a Real Thing and it had happened to _him_ of all people, he'd felt hollowed out, like his insides had been scooped clean like a Halloween pumpkin. Then he'd thought about Him and a strange sensation had taken up residence in his stomach, and he'd panicked until he figured it out. Butterflies in your stomach was a Real Thing too, apparently, and thinking about the man he'd taken to calling Cas in his head (because the big black _neighbor_ dude had said a name, but it'd been weird and complicated, like...Castle? Casteel? Cas, he had decided, was simple.) caused it. Surprisingly enough it felt strangely...right. But he didn't know the guy, had been in too much of a confused haze to remember the address of the apartment building, and Dean had been trying his level best not to mope until he fell into a restless sleep full of blue eyes. Sam had begged him to come out to the shop, claiming that one of the machines had blown a gasket or something and an engine was an engine was an engine, right? Once he'd gotten his brother to promise him free coffee for a month he'd crawled out of bed and dressed for the day, taking his sweet time with it, because Pissy Sam was one of his favorite brotherly incarnations.

If he'd had any idea that He would be there, Dean would have flown there. As it was, he'd barely stepped foot in the door before he noticed the ridiculous bedhead and the far away look in those eyes. He'd started to walk slowly over to where the guy was sitting, but stopped and stared when he got up. If he thought a wrinkled suit and baggy trench looked amazing on him, the low slung dark jeans and charcoal grey cardigan/white v-neck combination was jaw droppingly hot. He hadn't expected the guy to run nearly face first into him before he got the chance to say hello, but right now, he really, _really_ wasn't complaining.

He vaguely registered the sound of of a slow, obnoxious clapping and he turned to find Gabriel and Sam standing behind the counter looking smug. He looked down at the man, smiling fondly at the hot pink blush that stained those pale cheeks when the shop erupted in applause. He looked mortified, and Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tucked him against his body, feeling like he'd found something he'd always been missing when a face was buried into the soft flannel over his heart. 

He'd found home.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ok...i got this out of my system. now i need to go write some porn so that i don't go into hyperglycemic shock.
> 
>  
> 
> Like it?! Lemme know! The more you give me love the more I'll write :D


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